


Bad Dog, No Biscuit

by Cryptkin



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Other, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Nezu | Piers (Pokemon), is it pegging if theyre both guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26137120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptkin/pseuds/Cryptkin
Summary: Piers smells of spice and dried sweat, of aged mahogany and the rush of a crowd cheering your name and Raihan leans into the touch just to get more of that scent. It’s intoxicating somehow, as much as the feeling of his leather glove running along Raihan’s side now.
Relationships: Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	Bad Dog, No Biscuit

**Author's Note:**

> It's not explicitly stated and it's a blink-and-you-miss-it but Piers is trans in this iteration. If that's not your cup of tea it's fine, you can pretend otherwise with a little awkward imagination or just outright skip this work but no nasty comments pls & ty. To everyone else: enjoy bc I don't even go here lol. I just love the dynamic I see in fanart and wanted to throw my own spin on it.

One in the morning. It’s the dead of night, and yet Spikemuth is abuzz with activity. A concert had just wrapped up, having gone on for much longer than Piers anticipated, and he wanted nothing more than to retire to his beat-up bed in his run-down house on the secluded side of town where he wouldn’t be bothered, and yet--

“Piers! Hey!”

Raihan.

“Oi, don’t be so loud. People are sleepin’.”

The weak sarcasm earns a chuckle of approval, though it didn’t deter Raihan from nearly bowling Piers over with excited chatter. With more free time to devote to shows, there was a greater chance to see old colleagues after the set. Raihan being here was...odd, but not something that could be unexpected.

“You were amazing out there, mate.” Raihan is nearly bouncing as he gesticulates his awe. “The lighting, those fog machines kicking in during that power ballad, and the _crowd_ , the crowd was all fired up. Perfect scenery for a postcard. ‘Welcome to Spikemuth, home of’--”

Piers puts a tired hand up to stop Raihan. “None of that. No. I’m not doing this tonight, I’m busy.”

Raihan, unrelenting, merely circles around Piers as the other tries (and fails) to shamble off home. “Mate, listen, trust me, I know my angles. Seeing you from the pit was exhilarating and I don’t even care for your brand tunes. You got a voice, an energy that can’t be matched when you’re on that stage and can’t I just be _happy_ for you?”

“No. Sod off.” The compliment did paint the smallest of smiles on Piers’ face, though, and Raihan exclaimed in triumph.

“Ah! Ahhhh, ah. You’re smiling! You like the praise.” Raihan beams, falling back to walk beside his comrade at a slow amble.

“S’bout as chuffed as you’ll see me, then.” Piers cocks his head off to an alleyway before turning down it. “My house is back this way.”

“Down the alley?”

“Shortcut.” And that was that.

Coming upon the place, Raihan whistles. “Some place.” It was, indeed, some place. Hole in the wall, about as modest and aloof as its owner. Raihan ducks his head to get through the door, half surprised he was invited inside. “So can I go back to how banger your show was tonight or are you going to get your knickers in a twist again?”

Piers replies with a hum, rifling through a black shopping bag for something of note, only to abandon his quest and turn to the fridge. “I’m not one to drink after a show, but do you want anything? Are you feeling nippy?” He grabs a bottle of water for himself and holds up a can of beer to entice Raihan with.

Eyes narrowed suspiciously as Raihan cranes backward to try and look in that bag. “Ah, no, I’m fine. Gotta be up early tomorrow for training at a match, and I have leftovers at home, thanks.” He lingers on a thought, working his tongue to try and form a sentence. “What’s in the bag, mate?”

“Why, you curious?”

“A little.”

“Just some toys.”

“Marnie’s a little old for toys, isn’t she?”

Piers chokes mid-swig of water, unable to help himself but laugh. “You’re taking the piss, right?” As he’s wiping away the dribbled water from his chin, he can see that no, Raihan is _not_ taking the piss. “Sex toys. You know. Kinky things for when you’re feelin’ a bit cheeky?”

Immediately Raihan averts his eyes like a boy caught in catholic school looking up the girls’ skirts. “So...Not for Marnie then.” he says awkwardly, though immediately regrets it when the words leave his mouth.

“Stop talkin’ about my sister like you’re lookin’ for a shag and she’s the bird to do it.” Piers hisses, though he simmers down to a quiet smolder when Raihan flinches. Like a scolded puppy, he was, looking everywhere but at the mess he made. Piers sighs. “You regret askin’ now?”

“...A little,” Raihan mumbles, a lot more quiet than he was. Wasn’t like him to look so embarrassed, shrunk in on himself as if he wasn’t a massive bloke with an even more massive ego talking to some twig-skinny opposite of his.

“Fuck’s sake, you aren’t in trouble.” Shoulders relax. “Marnie’s out more often, usually with her mates, or at the gym, and I remember bein’ her age and never bein’ home but now I’m the one left alone and, well.” Piers now shrugs as if that was all the explanation he needed.

Raihan sits up, hands to his mouth in thought. “So they’re yours.”

Piers had no earthly clue on whether or not Raihan was in disbelief or just that stupid, but for peace of mind he picks the former.

“Yeah, they’re-- What’s it to you, anyway? We’re chummy but we ain’t _that_ chummy.”

“We could be.”

Piers whips his head around to stare at Raihan with a scrutinizing glare. Slowly, he leans a hand on the table and asks, “Is that a promise or a threat?” He’s cautious in step as he creeps to the couch Raihan has planted himself on, keeping arm’s length away and arms boxed. Raihan’s body language is more open, though, draping his arms over the back of the couch as if he owned it and posing relaxed.

“What do you want it to be?” Raihan watches with half-lidded eyes as Piers unwraps himself and sits on the open spot left on the now too-long couch. He’s still tense, but doesn’t move away when Raihan closes the distance.

Their kissing starts out chaste, with neither of them knowing where to put their hands, or if making a bolder move would instantly fizzle the moment, but Piers takes it upon himself to situate himself in Raihan’s lap for better leverage, and at that moment a switch is flipped.

It starts with a lip bite, hands tugging at hair to expose neck, moaning softly into the other’s mouth as Piers grinds against Raihan’s growing erection and _fuck_ , right there, that feels good, do it again, when Piers pulls Raihan back by the hair to nibble his earlobe.

“If we’re doing this,” he whispers between soft noises as Raihan’s hands explore every inch under that raggedy tank top, “we do it my way.”

Raihan’s breath hitches when Piers abandons his ear to leave love bites along his neck. “What’s your way?” He’s already half hard, and doubts whatever Piers has in mind would kill his arousal, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

Still draped around him, Piers gestures to the black bag on the table. “That.”

Lifting Piers off him, Raihan nearly trips over himself to grab whatever was in that innocuous shopping bag. He wasn’t expecting a dildo, and certainly not one so...Well, to put it blunt, it looked like a fantasy monster dick. Was this based on anything specific? He was curious, that’s for sure.

“Eager, aren’t you,” Piers deadpans, watching Raihan turn the toy over in his hand, inspecting every ridge and bump. “Like an untrained puppy.”

“No I’m not, I just--” Piers cut him off.

“Yeah you are. All excitable and chompin’ at the bit. Kind of unruly. But I like a challenge like that. Bring it and the bag over here.”

Raihan does what he’s told, handing the goods over, though his expression darkened at being compared to one of Piers’ zigzagoons or whatever the hell he was getting at. “This better be good.”

When Piers smiles it’s not the same, half-hidden one Raihan had gotten out of him earlier. This one was scheming. “It will be.” He handed back the toy. “Sit on it.”

“Sorry?”  
  
Piers watches with an expression not unlike a hungry predator as Raihan struggles to comprehend the command. “I said--” he enunciates with the drumming of his fingers, “--to sit. On. It. Or is the great Raihan not as great as he led me to believe?”

At the challenge, Raihan snorts audibly. “It’s not what I was expecting, but just…” It’s big. “No prep? Just go at it one fell swoop? S’gonna hurt.” He laughs. Piers meets him with a half-lidded gaze and Raihan feels his joke go flat in an instant.

“Take all the time in the world you need, mate. Just gonna be railin’ you hard with it later. Wanted you to get ready for it.” The idea of it, how nonchalant Piers throws it out, makes Raihan’s heart leap to his throat and his head swirl with lust. Oh, Arceus, how undone he must look from the thought alone.

Piers sits up. “Ah, wait.” Rustling around in the shopping bag once more, he tosses a small bottle of lube, which Raihan expertly fumbles. “You’ll need that. I ain’t all heartless.”

Raihan nods in somewhat of a daze, still hung up on the delicious fantasy he’s concocted involving a long, _long_ night with Piers, some champagne, a little camera schmoozing… The cap of the lube is snapped open and Raihan dribbles a decent amount on both his fingers and the toy before pausing, almost hesitant. “Aren’t you uh. Are you going to join in?”

“Nah.” The smugness in Piers’ voice is so thick it could be cut with a knife. “I wanna enjoy the show for once. Savor it.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah that’s-- yeah.” Something about being watched gave Raihan a jolt down his spine. For as much as he loved to be the center of attention, this was a rush that he just wasn’t prepared for, and now Raihan had to come to terms with that. He shuffled awkwardly out of his jersey shorts, face hot with embarrassment as he leaned back to stretch himself. He couldn’t meet Piers’ gaze but Raihan could see out of the corner of his eye that he was being watched intently. Was he going to get graded on this? Was Piers just doing this to fuck with his head? Does he look stupid, leaned back on his arse, getting off on fingerfucking himself just for some XXL Charizard PocketMonsterfucker fantasy dildo or-- 

Raihan is thinking way too much on this. _Clear your head. Clear your head. You can do this. You’re second only to the champion of the entire region, this is_ nothing _in comparison to that!_ He reaches for the toy, fingers tracing the ridges as he situates it in his hand. He steals a glance at Piers, who, except for a raised brow, hasn’t moved once from his spot.

“Ah…”

The head of the toy was pushed up against his entrance and Raihan’s breath hitched at the foreign sensation. He was no stranger to masturbation with a dildo, but one modeled like a fantasy creature was something out of his comfort zone. Still, he presses on, leaning forward so he could frot against the shaft, get used to the feeling of it. 

Precum leaks as Raihan rolls his hips in tempo with his own heartbeat. He was now fully hard with any hesitation lost to the wanton need of another body against his. Another, certain dark-type musician’s body against his. Piers wants a show? By damn, he’ll get one.

Raihan feels comfortable enough to sit the dildo on its base, getting up onto his knees so he can properly work himself and it. Nerves steeled, he lowers himself only a couple inches before having to stop. “Fuck.” Again: it’s big. Girthy, too. And Piers was going to fuck him with this? Raihan’s cock twitches at the thought and he attempts again to get further down on the thing with little result. He swallows down a soft moan. 

“Oh?” The voice makes Raihan jolt. He nearly forgot Piers was watching him. “What’s the matter? Too much for you to handle?” The accusation causes him to growl, but he only got a quiet laugh in return.

“Down, boy,” Piers commands in a firm tone that turned Raihan on more than he cared to admit. “You’re rubbish at this.” In a fluid motion, Piers had stood up and circled around to the other’s back, and when he ran his gloved hand down his chest, inspecting him, Raihan shuddered.

Piers smells of spice and dried sweat, of aged mahogany and the rush of a crowd cheering your name and Raihan leans into the touch just to get more of that scent. It’s intoxicating somehow, as much as the feeling of his leather glove running along Raihan’s side now. He pauses at the hip, fingers gripping down as Piers guides Raihan to move.

“What--” Raihan tries to ask, but Piers makes a harsh, commanding noise that stops him. He feels _scolded_. He doesn’t know what to make of it, and stops altogether, which annoys Piers.

Piers continues the guiding pressure on Raihan’s hip, leaning his body into Raihan’s back. “Move. Now,” he grunts, his free hand reaching around to stroke Raihan’s cock. Oh. _Oh._

“Oh.” Raihan follows Piers’ lead, desperate to be more than just touched, more than to be pleased. He wants to be consumed, and with every thrust of his hips, the more fervent Piers moves his hand, it almost feels like that’ll be reality soon. He steals a glance downward, and the messy sight of the swollen head of his cock, rocking back and forth between Piers’ precum-slicked fingers as he works Raihan is almost orgasmic. He stifles a moan by biting the inside of his cheek.

“Not yet.” The order, spoken so low and hot in Raihan’s ear it makes him shiver, is punctuated with a flick of Piers’ wrist. “Not yet, you’re already halfway there. Be a good boy. Earn your treat proper, yeah?” Halfway where? Halfway-- wait, that’s right, the toy. The dildo!

“Really?” Raihan snaps out of his lustful stupor long enough to beam at his accomplishment. He hadn’t even realized, and the praise he was given excites him.

“Mm. Yeah, jus’....keep goin’. Shut your trap.” Piers urges another moan from Raihan as he picks up the pace, hips moving in sync with the other’s just to get them both going again. He’s getting off to this too, though he won’t admit it. Having Raihan at his mercy, obeying his command was a sort of drunk power he didn’t expect to enjoy. “Keep goin’, big boy, you’re almost there.” Breathy incantations of encouragement that he feels Raihan tense up at. Delicious.

Raihan is close, and his movements against Piers’ hand and down on the toy become janky. When Piers stops and pulls away, there’s an audible whine of protest. “Why’d you stop? That was hot, keep going.”

“Said I was gonna rail you with the toy. Get off it, I need it.” He’s fishing through that bag again to find an accessory, and Raihan can’t help but enjoy the backside view of Piers bent over as he slowly peels himself out of a kneeling position and off the dildo.

Triumphantly, Piers holds up a harness before unceremoniously stripping out of his jeans and retrieving the dildo. From this angle, he’s haloed by the ceiling light like some god’s gift deity and Raihan has found salvation in the glow.

“Can’t properly fuck you when you’re sittin’ there with your gob open, mate. Hands and knees, c’mon now.” Raihan lingers for just a moment longer, watching Piers tighten the thigh straps, giving his hips an experimental wiggle, and run his fingers along the top of the dildo’s shaft once satisfied.

“You’re fucking beautiful like that, you know?” The sentiment makes Piers’ nose wrinkle.

“None of that mushy stuff. Ain’t here for a long time. Just a good one.” With a snap of his hips, he ruts against Raihan, no care for gentleness or affection. The sensation has Raihan buckle underneath him, and Piers almost pitches forward, managing to catch himself and press his hand against the other’s back for balance. “I haven’t even started, you that worked up?”

Raihan offers a noncommittal noise in reply. Having been edged earlier and now getting teased with just a frotting, he really couldn’t find heart in him to say more than that. He needs to be fucked, and hard, and fast, and _oh, lord_ is he worked up. He rocks back against Piers in an attempt to get the point across, and tilts his head back just enough to see a toothy smile.

“I get it, no need to shove. Manners are important though, you ever think about that?”

Raihan cries out in exasperation, but Piers stops moving entirely in response. Something told him no one would win from this, and so through a shaky voice, he rasps: “Please.”

“Please what?” Piers picks the pace back up to a slow and gentle rocking that is utterly maddening to Raihan, and he keens to the question.

“Please fuck me already, you’re _torturing_ me here.”

Leaning over, pressing his mouth against the shell of Raihan’s ear in an uncharacteristically soft kiss, Piers replies in a husky tone, “Good boy.”

It was halfway between familiar and not. When Piers first pushed the toy into him, Raihan took note of the soft ridging down the shaft, but pulling back was another story entirely. Those same ridges pulled in an achingly good way, leaving a burn so sweet he feels dizzy. And again. And again and again and again and Raihan’s head is swimming. He reaches down to stroke himself but is reprimanded yet again.

“Hands off.”

He relents, and Piers rewards him by sitting them both upright, Raihan in his lap and riding the strapon with reckless abandon and Piers holding him by the waist with one arm, fingernails digging painfully into sweat-slicked skin and he swears any harder and he’d be bleeding. The other hand is wrapped around Raihan’s length, pumping in the same rhythm as Piers’ hips.

The feeling of his abdomen tensing and his ragged breathing means Raihan is close, and he curses under his breath at the feeling. He’s been on the cusp of orgasm for so long now, but he still wanted to ride this high for as long as he could. Piers does too, apparently, because he slows his movements to long, languid thrusts.

“What’re you doing…” Raihan breathes, voice a hair’s breadth above a whisper.

“Enjoying the show. Savorin’ it.” The raspy voice against Raihan’s back sends static along his spine and in a desperate attempt to chase that high he rolls his hips against Piers’ and groans out his name.

“You,” Piers huffs as he rewards that sweet moaning with another thrust of his hips, “--are the most sonorous thing I’ve heard all week.”

And that did it. Any hanging on to clarity was lost in the praise and Raihan feels that burning in his gut spread across his very being as he came with undone abandon into Piers’ hand. His throat feels tight and he struggles to make a sound more definite than a groan as Piers continues to stroke his too-sensitive shaft.

Mercifully Piers peels himself away from Raihan after a few more seconds of eking out those pretty noises, who he watches slowly sink back into a kneel with a wobble. _Nice test run_ , he thinks to himself as he sits back on the couch to undo all the straps and buckles.

Raihan is able to find his voice again with effort, wiping the sweat off his brow and rubbing at his face as if still trying to comprehend what just happened. “That was…Something.”

“Somethin’, yeah,” Piers repeats. He grabs at a box of tissues to hand off to Raihan. It wasn’t fancy, but it was the closest thing within his reach and he figured the poor guy needed it.

Raihan takes the box and cleans himself up in the laziest way before reaching for his shorts and redressing himself. “I’ll get back at you for that untrained puppy comment, by the way,” he says in his best assertive tone, though the smile on his face betrays him. It’s infectious, and makes Piers laugh despite himself.

“Is that a promise or a threat?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, feel free to leave a kudos or comment. I haven't written fanfic in a decade so this was a warm up for me more than anything. Cheers!


End file.
